


What's the Word?

by oceania



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, word of the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:09:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceania/pseuds/oceania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gives Danny a calendar every new year.  This year it's a "Word of the Day for Dummies".  It's February 14, 2015 and the word of the day is "romantic".  Danny gets to thinking.  Kono gets fed up with her bosses' stupidity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's the Word?

**Author's Note:**

> THis was started a year ago but left unfinished. I could wait till next February but I decided to publish it now. Many many thanks to campylobacter and justeamusant for their invaluable beta skills. 
> 
> This is pure fluff.

_“Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.” ― Maya Angelou_

**Prologue**

It had all begun with a “Seals of the World” calendar in 2011 and somehow it had stuck. The exchange of joke calendars had become an annual tradition every New Year’s since.

**January 2nd, 2015**

“Cute Steven, real cute,” Danny chuckled as he pulled the ‘Word a Day Calendar for Dummies’ out of its bright yellow box.

“Guaranteed to decrease your vocabulary, one simple word at a time!” Steve grinned, easily deflecting the enormous red bow that Danny had pitched at his head. “Happy New Year. Danno.” Steve smirked, swaggering towards his office.

“Good one, boss!” Kono giggled and fist bumped Steve on his way past the ops table.

“He sure got you this year, brah,” Chin teased.

Danny looked up from his perusal of January 1st and smiled smugly as he tore off the sheet with “Yearly” in bold print. “Not so fast, Chin. Wait for it….”

“DANNY!” Steve shouted, “What the fuck is THIS?” The glass between their two offices rattled with the vibration of Steve’s stormy tone and heavy steps as he stomped his way back to Danny’s office.

“You don’t like it?” Danny asked sweetly. “They didn’t make a Guns and Ammo calendar, so sadly I had to settle for ‘The Army’s Calendar’. It’s the special collector’s edition!” Danny’s eyes twinkled.

“I’m in the Navy!”

“Whatever, babe,” Danny laughed as he chucked last year’s “Hawaiian Words for Haoles” into the trash. That one had been custom made with Photoshop. The last day of December clung to the now worn camo duct tape that had held it all together. ‘Hau'oli Makahiki Hou!’ hit the basket. “Happy New Year to you too Steve.” Danny smiled broadly at his best friend.

“Hey, at least, I can throw out ‘The Sexy Men of Jersey’ now,” Steve laughed.

“Don’t you dare! I’m keeping that!” Kono shouted.

Danny laughed heartily and rose from his chair, “You want some coffee babe?”

“Tea, Daniel. I drink tea.”

**February 14, 2015**

Danny tore February 13th’s ‘awesome’ out and stared down at the word of the day.

Romantic:  
a. marked by expressions of affection or love  
b. marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized.

“Typical,” Danny scowled. It was Valentine’s Day: the day that all men were expected to be romantic. Never mind that he had always been romantic. One forgotten Valentine’s Day back in 2003, and he’d never heard the end of it. Well, at least he was alone this year. Again.

Danny scowled down at the calendar. He knew what he wanted, or rather who he wanted but…

**_Romantic: marked by expressions of affection and love_ **

Before Danny Williams met one Steven J. McGarrett, his definition of romantic had been conventional. Wine, poetry, flowers, soft music, candlelight—hell it even included the odd moonlit walk along a sandy beach. He’d fucking excelled at it: surprising a lover with a single rose and a poem, delivered to her at work of course. The more public the gesture, the more points he earned and the better his evening would be. When he married Rachel, he had romanced her every damn day, leaving her notes expressing his appreciation of the little things: the soft skin on her inner thigh, the way her hair smelled, the soft snuffling noise she made in her sleep; surprising her with candlelit dinners and bubble baths. When he was working nights, he would bring her breakfast in bed and spend the early morning with her, rather than snatching a few hours of sleep before Gracie was up for the day. He never ever let Rachel sit up alone while she breastfed, opting instead to bring her the baby in bed and cuddling them both.

But things started to go to hell when he made Detective. A cop on the beat worked for 8 hours and was home for 16. Detectives worked 16 hours and maybe made it home for 8. Romance slipped away, resentment festered. If he thought too hard about it, it gutted him. He’d known she wanted out for two years before she admitted it--even to herself. But he’d been paid back tenfold for any pain he caused her. Yep, she gave love a bad name.

_“Stan makes me feel as if I am the most important person in his life.”_

_“Please Rach, don’t do this.”_

_“Goodbye Danny.”_

This is the way his world ended, with both a bang and a whimper.

Danny reread the second definition:

_**Romantic: marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized**._

Danny sighed heavily and shook off his Rachel induced hostility as he began to think of Steve again: anatomizing each element of the definition.

_**Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic** …_

  
Danny knew intellectually that a man of Steve’s rank and reputation was a hero. He was a Navy SEAL, for fuck’s sake. The man had made a career out of heroism, but there was a whole lot of crazy ass shit rolled up in that job too. Said crazy had dominated the first year of their partnership, and he had ample scars as a testament to it. But Operation Strawberry Fields? That was heroism. Yep, he’d read the file without admitting to it. Steve and his team had parachuted into a freaking compound and begun firing before their boots had even hit the ground: rescuing a group of Congolese children, mostly girls, recently kidnapped from their villages by human traffickers. After an unknown number of ‘casualties’, and no ‘collateral damage’, Steve’s team of six had kept over 100 kids safe for more than a week in the rain forest, as they trekked to “strawberry fields” and safety. An addendum to the file mentioned a myriad of injuries to the team leader, including but not limited to a bullet wound to the abdomen and severe head trauma

Heroic.

_“You did this stuff?”_

_“I can neither confirm nor deny…”_

**_Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous…_ **

Steve did a lot of adventurous stuff. He climbed mountains, jumped out of airplanes, surfed, swung on vines, drove like a maniac, ate pineapple on his pizza, dared Danny’s rancor at every opportunity, but that was nothing compared to the adventure of helping Danny host a sleepover for twelve 11-year old girls. He’d offered up his house, supervised the beach while Danny barbequed, and allowed the girls to bury him in the sand and cover him with flowers and seashells. And that had been before the sleepover part of the evening had even begun.

Danny had tossed and turned on the tiny bed in Mary’s old room, unable to get a wink of sleep, struggling not to be “that Dad” and demand an end to the screeching and giggling from the main room. The silliness continued well into the wee hours of the morning, but at eight, Steve had emerged from his room with a smile and a shout of

 _“Who wants pancakes?”_ Yep. Steve loved the adventure.

_“Sorry for the all night screeching and the feathers,” Danny sighed, as he swept up the mess from the last night’s pillow fights. “And the grape soda all over your couch. Oh, and the sand, and the girls dressing you as a princess.”_

_“Nah, it was a great party! The girls were a lot of fun! I loved it.”_

**_Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious…_ **

It drove Danny nuts that Steve could be so inscrutable. Danny could usually read people and for the most part, he had Steve’s moods figured out. He knew what pissed him off and what made him laugh like a little girl. He knew when Steve was planning on using explosives. He knew when Steve loved someone by the way his face got soft and his eyes sparkled when he spoke of them. He knew when Steve was thinking about his mother because even though his mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes looked lost and misty. But there were odd moments, when something was said or done that caused Steve to draw inward. No amount of prodding would bring him back again. Steve was absent, his face rigid and his eyes a steely gray.

At times like these, Steve would often simply get up and leave the room, back clenched, swagger gone. Sometimes he knew enough to just let Steve slip away. Other times, Danny would follow him, offering silent companionship.

But Steve remained inaccessible, until whatever was inside of him was exorcised with a slight shudder and a heavy sigh.

_“Babe? You okay?” Danny was careful to wait until Steve’s breathing was no longer audible. “You wanna talk about it?”_

_“Nah, I’m good.” He laughed and draped his arm around Danny’s shoulders. “I just needed a break.”_

The ghosts had been banished again.

And Danny was left wondering again. Who was Steven J. McGarrett? What was inside his head? What had he suffered? What horrors had he seen?

**_Marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized…_ **

Well, there was no denying that Steve presented the ideal image of masculinity. Danny figured the world divided into two camps: those who wanted to be with him and those who wanted to be him. And Danny had long ago accepted that he belonged to the first group. The man had a body that would make Achilles seethe with envy, and lust too for that matter. Ancient Greek men didn’t shy away from where the natural proclivities that raging testosterone and a love of beauty were prone to take them. Lucky bastards, Danny griped to himself. He had to try not to ogle Steve’s virile strength every fucking time the man felt compelled to strip in public. Or private. God knows Steve had no shame, and paraded around his home in nothing but a smile, whether Danny was there or not.

_“Put on some fucking clothes you exhibitionist!”_

_“I’m just going up to get them-- can’t let my trunks drip all over the new hardwood, Danno.”_

_“Towels Steven, TOWELS!”_

_“I’m already dry, Danny.”_

If Danny had averted his eyes from the front view, he had no problem letting his gaze linger on the sculpted ass, and interplay of muscles as Steve climbed the stairs. No sir. Ideal didn’t even scratch the surface of that rear end, and those tight fucking thighs and calves!

When he had been staying at Steve’s, Danny spent most of the time at full attention, but a three minute shower was usually long enough to put himself at ease, at least until the exhibition began again.

Yep, ‘imaginative appeal’, that was Steve all over.

And Danny had a very good imagination, thank you very much. He’d been a surprisingly fanciful little boy; he had imaginary friends called boomer beemies that followed him around and who apparently preferred to be lined up according to height along the edge of his bed at night or along the table at breakfast. He’d had an invisible dog that he led around tied to a shoelace. When he was older he wrote stories: one, about a talking fire hydrant, had even won him a prize in grade four. His imaginative powers were key to his success as a detective. He could usually piece together an entire scenario based solely on a crime scene. And he was rarely mistaken. His mind had an unfortunate habit of supplying him with far too graphic images and he was often accused of imagining the worst case scenario. But no one could argue with his solve rate, and experience had taught him the value in imagining all that could go wrong ahead of time.

He was doing that now. Imagining the face Steve would make if Danny told him how he felt. “I’m in love with you,” he would say and Steve would get ‘the shock and awe’ face followed by his patented “I’m sorry Danno” face. Danny knew Steve well enough to be certain that there would be no recriminations or even much awkwardness after the fact. But he also knew that Steve was straighter than a stripper’s pole.

“What’s the word today, Danno?” Steve asked as he stood in the open door to Danny’s office.

“You ask that every fucking morning,” Danny grumbled.

“I’m improving my vocabulary,” Steve teased.

“Romantic.”

“Oh yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day.” Steve looked thoughtful for a moment and then smiled.

“You and Catherine have something planned?”

“Nah, strictly stag this year. She’s not my girlfriend, Danny.” Steve looked slightly pouty and Danny absolutely did not fantasize about kissing that mouth. Not much anyway.

“Right,” Danny answered incredulously.

“You doing something with Amber?” Steve looked oddly wistful.

“We broke up in October. You’re such a fine detective, you never noticed.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t love her. Or want to marry her.”

“Oh.”

“What’s with the face?” Danny didn’t have a name for this particular expression but it was a cross between guilty and hopeful. He moved out from behind his desk and leaned against it facing Steve with no barrier between them.

Steve lowered his voice, “I don’t love Catherine either. I don’t want to marry her.”

“But you string her along anyway? That’s harsh babe.”

“She knows. She texted me a ‘dear John letter’ last month and YOU are such a great detective you never noticed.” Steve looked at Danny with fire in his eyes. “Why do you always think the worst of me?”

“I—I don’t think the worst. Not really Steve.” Danny stammered, and dropped his eyes before murmuring, “Actually, I think you are the best.”

“Right. I’m the best at fucking up and blowing things up and getting you shot…”

“No Steve, I mean, I think you are the best. Like, um….the best…and I really like you.”

“Do you like me or do you _like_ like me?”

Danny blushed and shrugged his shoulders shyly.

“Oh my god!” Kono interrupted from the outer office and stomped into Danny’s office. “You two sound like teenagers! I can’t stand it another second!” She raised her voice, “Really! I CAN’T STAND IT ANOTHER SECOND!!!!!”

Chin leapt into the fray and hushed her, “Kono! This isn’t any of our business!”

“SOMEONE has to force them to--Mmpjsgfh!”

Chin kept his hand clasped firmly over her mouth and backwards frog marched her out of the office.

“What the hell, Cuz? Someone has to tell them!” She struggled to free herself and could be heard hollering, “Tell him you love him boss!” as Chin bodily removed her to the hall.

“Nice one Chin,” Kono giggled as she righted herself in the hallway.

“Caught you just in time,” he chuckled. “Sorry I was late on my cue.”

They laughed good-naturedly in the hall just outside the door, “Think that will do the trick, Kono?” Chin chuckled.

“If it doesn’t, we’ll move on to ‘Operation Lost at Sea’, and that is one messed up plan.”

“It’s Max’s.” 

Strangely, Danny felt no tension or apprehension. He waited quietly for a long moment until it became clear that Steve wasn’t going to get to the point.

“Which boss do you think she meant?” Danny asked cautiously.

Steve stood like a crimson stallion held in place by the discipline of long practice and the necessity of decorum but ready to bolt at the slightest noise. Danny actually said, “Steady there babe,” out loud and reached a hand up to stroke the side of Steve’s face.

Steve leaned against the hand and mumbled, “I’m the boss.”

Danny laughed, “Yes, yes you are. And I believe Kono gave you a direct order.” He stepped into the space between them and held his ground.

“I can’t…”

“So you don’t love me? I’m hurt babe,” Danny joked, mock grabbing his heart and making a move to leave. “Well then. I guess I’ll get going.”

Steve blocked his way, “You’re the boss too, you know. Maybe she meant you.”

“Oh, for crying out loud! I LOVE YOU! Are you happy now? I’ve said it. But you, my friend, are too big a pussy to admit you have feelings. And stop looking at me with that stupid goofy face, I’m serious here. You haven’t got the stones to tell me first? I thought you were supposed to be the ‘Big Cojones’.”

“Kahuna, Danny. I’m the big Kahuna.”

“You see? You _are_ the boss!”

“Guess so.”

“So? So what? So what do you have to say? ANYTHING?”

Steve laughed nervously, “Okay, I um…well…I guess Ill say I love you too then?”

“You guess? What the actual fuck Steven? You guess? Does this look like a game show to you? Um, I’ll take Who Might I Love for 200, Alex?” Danny was beginning to wind down, hurt settling on his square jaw.

Steve growled and grabbed one of Danny’s flailing arms, “I love you! Have forever…will forever. You satisfied now?”

Danny smiled, backing away slightly before hopping up on his desk. Steve looked confused but took one of Danny’s outstretched hands. “Negates the height difference babe,” Danny said softly and pulled Steve to his lips.

Steve gasped for air. “We can’t have sex on your desk, Danno.”

“We aren’t having sex Steve, we’re kissing.”

“Kissing is good”

“Yes, yes it is, Steve.”

“Sex is better.”

Danny did not protest when Steve took possession of his mouth again.

 

**Epilogue-February 16, 2015**

“Details, I want details!” Kono announced as she perched on the edge of Danny’s desk.

“Huh? What?” Danny mumbled dreamily.

“Well, the two of you are even more stupid than when I left you yesterday. I mean obviously, you are now together but you are so stoned on each other, the rest of us are getting tooth decay. So out with it or I am going to tell Steve you told me everything anyway. Spill.”

Danny groaned and tore himself away from the memory of the feel of Steve’s silken tongue on his dick. “I will have you know that I am a professional Kono. I am fully focused on this um…” Danny shuffled some papers on his desk, “Request for Kona K-cups…”

“Oh brah, you are far far gone. That good?”

Danny gulped back a swallow of his now cold coffee. “I’m not telling you. This is my life Kono, not some afterschool special about man love.”

Kono snorted, “Must have had way better television in Jersey if ABC did a tween show about gay sex!”

Danny laughed and smiled up at her. “It’s private. I love him. He loves me. We are um…together.”

“All right Danny, just tell me one thing. Was it worth the wait?”

Danny smiled and began to drift away again recalling the look on Steve’s face as Danny entered him. The moaning….god, Steve moaning his name. The look of surprise and bliss on Steve’s face when Danny made him come for a third time.

Kono giggled girlishly, “Your eyes tell the tale, nuf said.” She exited with a backwards wink.

Danny barely noticed. He was reflecting on the way Steve had cocooned against him through the night, and the gentle kisses he’d been woken with.

The sex graveled voice of Steve broke into the daydream. “Hey Danno, what’s the word today?”

Danny startled. “Hold on babe, let me check…” He tore the previous page but instead of tossing it away, he put it carefully in his desk drawer.

“Devotion: Having love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person or activity.”

“Oh yeah? I can think of a few activities that I am absolutely devoted to.” Steve was leaning against the door frame.

Danny raised his eyes and took in the sight of his lover. Steve was red around the mouth from whisker burn and his hair had a decidedly tussled look. “I definitely love what I’m seeing,” Danny husked.

Steve stalked towards Danny’s desk and bent down for a steamy open mouth kiss. “I think I want to take you home now,” he growled

“Mmmm,” Danny sighed. “I think I can get behind that idea enthusiastically.”

Steve whispered into Danny’s ear, “I think I’ll get behind the idea this time, if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh hell yeah,” Danny groaned.


End file.
